Dirty Little Secret
by PeachyKeen
Summary: Finch is assaulted (dark themes). Rating changed (again). Updated!
1. Work

                        The day had started just like any other.  Dennis stood at his desk, answering the phone, running errands, sipping his juice box and being, well…  Finchy.  Nina was in her office, sipping a martini. Elliot was taking pictures, and Maya was in her office, brainstorming ideas for her next article.

"Hey, Finch!  You ordered pizza, right?"  Nina asked, coming out of her office, martini in hand.

"Yes, but if you want me to play 'pizza-boy' in one of your fantasies, forget it.  Someone as sensitive as I can tolerate a spanking, but a hot pizza in the lap, well…  That's just painful!"  Finch said, shuddering.

_Maybe Dennis isn't as boring as I'd thought.  Better remember that._  Nina thought, smiling sexily at Finch.  Finch cocked his eyebrow and looked at her.

"Forget I said that.  What do you want?"

"Well, could you stop and get something on your way?"

"That depends, where and what are we talking about?"

"It's at this little art shop about 5 blocks from here.  It's called 'Son Rêve Secret'.  We're talking about a very rare painting.  It's about a certain sexual practice that was very taboo in the…"

"Fine.  How much?"

"$4950."

"Give me $5,000 and we'll call it even."  Finch said, knowing he'd cornered Nina.

"But…  50 dollars for something I could go get myself?"  She protested.

"Well, then I suggest you do so."  He replied, smiling at her, and ducking to a drawer to retrieve a legal pad.  He sprang back up, still smiling.  "Oh, what do you think of the headline:  Nina Van Horn Spotted Carrying Some Real Freaky Shi---- OWWW!"  Finch yelled after Nina smacked him across the face.

"Alright, listen to me you little shitbird!"  Nina said, reaching over her desk and grabbing Finch's soft deep blue sweater.  She jerked him forward so that his blue eyes were looking directly into her brown ones- so that his nose was mashed up against hers.  "You're going to get this painting for me, and you are going to set it in my office, and you are not going to say one word to anyone.  Do you understand?"  She hissed at him. Finch squirmed in her grasp.

"Nina, please!"

"_Do you understand_?"  She hissed one again, handing him 5,000 in cash.

"Yes!  Can I at least keep the 50 bucks?"

"Fine.  Just make sure to have it here by 5.  Good Day, Finch."  She told him, turning on her heel and heading to the break area.

Finch grunted and smoothed his sweater.  He rubbed the sleeve of the garment against his cheek, relishing the feel of the softness against his skin.  He closed his eyes and flashed back to when he was a toddler, and his mother would hold him still against her.  He remembered pressing his cheek into her shoulder, nuzzling her to feel the softness of her shirt against his cheek.  He shook his head to get out of the daze.

It had been 28 years.  28 years since his mother passed away.  28 years and not a day went by that something didn't remind him of his mother.  He'd been strolling along and he noticed the sweater in Macy's window.  He didn't have a lot of money, by any means, he had a regular job, but he had to buy it.  The second he'd felt the sweater he pulled out a near-maxed credit card and took the sweater home with him.

"Dennis!  Get your ass in gear!"  Nina spat from the break area.

He jumped to action and headed to the elevator.  He couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in his belly.


	2. Suffer

Chapter 2-

"Ah, Son Rêve Secret.  Oui, C'est foutu."

                     Translation:  "Ah, Son Rêve Secret. (Her secret dreams…  I think.) Yeah, this is fucked up."

He was about to enter the building when he noticed a sign on the door.

--Sorry.  We are out to lunch, so if you could enter in the back and wait for us to return, that would be lovely.  Thank you.  Signed, Mme et Mr .—

"Great.  This could not have happened at any other time."  Finch muttered, kicking a soda can into the alleyway in the back.  He pulled on the door handle, but it didn't budge.  He yanked it again, but he realized that it was locked.  He was not pleased.

"Oh, fuck."  He muttered, feeling guilty about using the word.  He remembered the first time he had used it.  He was only copying his father, who used the word constantly.  In fact, he used the word more often than a sailor who trucked in the off-season.  He'd only been maybe 7 at the time, and he was sitting on the floor, playing with his Matchbox cars.  He accidentally sent one of the cars rolling along the hardwood, and down into a vent cover.  The word had slipped out of his mouth before he even had a chance to stop it.  His mother pushed open the swinging door and backhanded her son-- Not enough to cause damage, but just enough so that she got her point across.  She then proceeded to give him a taste of a bar of soap.

Finch couldn't help but smile at the thought of the foul tasting, yet nice smelling cleaning agent.  He'd tasted that bar of soap until…  well, until she left him.  To kill time, he began to sing.

"Wake me up, before you go-go, don't leave me hangin' on like a yo-yo.  Wake me up, before you go-go…" He sang, keeping himself cheerful.  He thought it rather odd that a 38 year-old man would sing 'Wham!' tunes, but then again, he liked 'Wham!' in their heyday.  Well, he went to one concert, but that was to pick up chicks.  He smiled politely at a large cloaked figure that was rounding the corner.

"I suppose you are waiting for Madame Moreau to return, no?"  The tall man asked, laying on his thick French accent.

"Yeah, I'm picking up an order from Nina Van Horn."  Finch said, trying to make conversation.  He kept his eyes on the street, and so he couldn't see the large man make his move.  The man took one of his large meaty hands and grabbed Finch by his neck.  He pushed the small man into the wall and then clapped his free hand over Finch's mouth.

"Keep your mouth shut, or you will die a very painful death.  You understand me, you little whore?"  The large man said, dropping the fake accent.  Finch nodded in fear, afraid to even close his eyes.  His assailant grabbed him, and whirled him around, smashing him up against the wall again.  Finch felt the hands exploring his lower regions, fumbling around his zipper.

_Please, God…  Anyone…  Please help me!  Please don't let this happen!_  He thought, trying his hardest not to cry.  He felt the hand yank his pants down, exposing his rear end.  He didn't like what was about to happen.

"Aww, such a tight little ass.  I bet you're a virgin, aren't you?"  The man laughed, cruelly slapping Finch's butt.  The smaller man could no longer hold his tears.  He held his breath, trying not to think.  He wished he could muster up the strength to scream, or run, but he was too small.  He was not able to protect himself.

He felt the man press his penis up against him.  He closed his eyes and whimpered in fear.

"Didn't I tell you to keep quiet?"  The man hissed, slapping Finch in the back of the head.  He thrust his hips forward into Finch's small body.  As a result, Finch was slammed up against the wall, sending a surge of agony throughout his entire body. With each thrust his attacker made, he fought the growing urge not to cry and scream.  Finally, he could not take it any longer.

"Please, stop!  I'll do anything, just please, stop!"  Dennis quietly sobbed, the tears streaming down his face.  Even his assailant could barely hear it, but that was enough.  The man was angered, and Finch knew it.   He silently prayed to whatever Gods were listening, that his assailant would just leave him alone.

"Nighty-night."  The attacker said, and then suddenly he heard a loud crack, and a sharp, throbbing pain upside his head.  Then, everything went dark.


	3. search

Chapter 3-

Okay.  I owe you all an explanation.

Ever since FFN put these restrictions in place, I've been boycotting the site.  I enjoyed writing and reading music fan fiction, but there's nowhere that I can do that now.  I hate FFN, but I do enjoy writing even more.  However, I'm still not happy.  I will try and make my updates more regular now, but that might be difficult due to my various clubs/activities.  I'm the Secretary for the school newspaper, as well as the writer of 3 articles within the paper.  I'm also in AP US history, and the homework is killer.  It's not as much as an average college course.  However, for the credit, it's totally worth it.  I'm also in Intro to AP English, which also requires a lot of work.

And my AP History exam is on May 9th, and it is now April 22.  I'm ready to freak out…

But, I started writing two new fics in two different fandoms:  Jungle Love in the Will and Grace section, and "Too old to die young, Too young to die now."  In the Kevin Smith section.  If you're into Kevin Smith/View Askew please, please, please read it and review it!

Now, if only I could remember my thoughts when I last wrote on this…

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*

"Nina!"  Jack whined, standing in front of Dennis' desk.

"Yes, Jack?"  Nina asked, strolling up to him.

"Have you seen Dennis?  I sent him to get pizza over an hour ago!"

"Well, Jack.  I ordered this rare painting from Son Rêve Secret.  I sent him to pick it up, and he should be back by now."

"Well, he isn't.  I say we give him 20 more minutes, and then we call a search party."  Jack said, turning back into his office.

Elliot walked over to Nina.

"He wants to send out a search party?"

"Crazy old bastard."  Nina said, heading over to the break area.  She opened a flask and poured the liquid into her coffee.

"You know, it's not like Finch to just disappear like this."  Elliot sipped his own coffee.

"Please.  He probably saw a comic book store."  She shot back.

"Or a Sleaze joint."  He suggested.

"Or a Star Wars convention."

"Or a figure-skating championship."

"Or a hooker."

"Or maybe a supermodel."

They paused their banter and looked at each other.

"We can't let him get away!"  Nina declared.

"Why not?  He needs female companionship!"  Elliot argued.

"Yeah, that's true.  But, A.)  I'll never get my painting, and you guys won't get your pizza.  B.) He'll end up in Hawaii for a month, and my painting will be destroyed by the weather out there.  C.) I won't get my painting."

"NINA!  Who cares about your painting?!"

"I do!"

"Well we don't."

By this point, Elliot didn't care about the painting, and he didn't really mind Finch's absence.  No bald jokes, no worry.  But, something was nagging him in the back of his head.  Finch would probably be okay, but it _really_ wasn't like him to just disappear like this.  He finished off his lukewarm coffee and walked over to two young supermodels.

"Serendipity, Justice…  Come with me.  We have pictures to take."

"Finch, I need you to…  Finch?  Dad?  Where's Dennis?"  Maya asked, confused.

Jack walked out of his office and shrugged.  "Nina told me that he went to pick something up at some French art shop, and he isn't back yet."

"How long has he been gone?"  Maya's eyes began to show more than just simple concern.

"About an hour and a half."  Jack sighed.

"No way does it take that long."

"Maybe he got lost at RST video or something…"  Jack sensed his daughter's worry.

"Maybe."  Maya still doubted Jack's reasoning, but she hoped that it was true.  She walked slowly to the layout board to make some changes.  She momentarily expected Dennis to make a wisecrack about her 'Save the Platypi' t-shirt, but he wasn't there to do that.

"He'll be back soon, right?"**__**


	4. Woodlands

Chapter 4- Woodlands.

Holy Shiznit.  I haven't updated in FOREVER.  I've had so much to deal with it's unbelievable.  One of the greatest teachers of all time has been seriously injured in a farm accident, and he's still in the hospital.  I've been so busy organizing a benefit for him that it is getting really difficult to do much else.  I've also been working on my school's newspaper, but I suppose I can give you a interim update…

Thanks for the reviews, and if you're hungry for some more reading, please read my 'baby:  Too Old to Die Young, Too Young to Die Now.  (It's a Kevin Smith fic, which involves characters from the "Jersey Trilogy"; Clerks, Mallrats, and Chasing Amy.  I'd appreciate any reads/reviews of it.  Especially considering I'm a review whore.

Tally Ho!

-----

Dennis awoke in the back of a van.  He couldn't feel anything but the throbbing pain in the back of his head, and the dryness of his mouth.  There was a ball-gag that had been shoved in his mouth, silencing him, and making him choke on his saliva. His arms and legs were bound together, so he could barely breathe, much less move.  He struggled for a little bit, but he accidentally kicked a box in the back, causing his assailant to hear him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Dennis decided to play dead at this point, and he stopped moving.  He looked around him, but he could see nothing.  He could tell something was wrapped around his head, but he didn't think it could be a blindfold.  Those went around the eyes, not the top of the head.  The van hit a speed bump at full speed, sending Dennis flying up into the air, and then back down with a resounding THUD!

Dennis moaned slightly, and the 'blindfold' fell off.  Dennis saw that it was covered in blood.  He suddenly felt sick to his stomach, but he was afraid to throw up.  He felt the temperature rise in the van, and he wondered where he was.  He wanted desperately to have a drink of water, or beer, or… anything cold and wet.  He softly groaned and shut his eyes again.

When Dennis opened them again, he felt the van coming to a stop. He looked around frantically, searching for a weapon, anything…  Something to help him out of this mess…  He noticed a screwdriver, but it was no use.  His hands were tied up, and he was supposed to be blindfolded.  Light flooded the cramped space and he felt himself being pulled backward.

"Well, looky who's awake."  His assailant sneered, tossing Dennis' small body into the stone driveway.  Dennis noticed that the house he was at was on a large hill.  The man looked around and made sure that no one saw him, and in one quick motion, scooped Dennis over his shoulder and hauled him into the house.

The house was a large, white house in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere.  It looked as though it hadn't been painted since 1952, and it was surrounded by trees.  Mostly maple and pine trees, the woods were so thick that a squirrel could easily walk from tree to tree without jumping.  The stairs creaked as the man walked on them, and when standing on the porch, it gave a view of the country neighborhood surrounding it.

Dennis felt his body being slammed onto the floor.  The man stepped over him and walked into another room.  Dennis could hear the man rummaging around in a drawer, and he swallowed heavily.  Thoughts of what could happen to him began to run through his head.  Then, thoughts ran through his head of what could be happening to Maya, or Nina if he'd made one of them go instead.  The thought of Maya being raped and tortured angered him.

It suddenly made his situation a little less painful, knowing that Maya was safe and sound in her home.**__**


End file.
